


L 



ns o-teK/ 



DENISON'S ACTING PLAYS 

Partial List of Successful and Popular Plays. Larse Catalogue Free. 



6 6 

7 5 
6 6 
9 7 



DRAMAS, COMEDIES, 
ENTERTAINMENTS, Etc. 

M. F. 

Aaron Boggs, Freshman, 3 

acts, ZVz hrs (35c) 8 8 

Abbu San of Old Japan, 2 nets, 

2 hrs (35c) 15 

After the Game, 2 acts, 1^4 

hrs (25c) 1 9 

All a Mistake, 3 acts, 2 hrs. 

(35c) 4 4 

All on Account of Pollv, 3 acts, 

2^ hrs '..'... (35c) 6 10 

And Home Came Ted, 3 acts, 

2^ hrs (50c) 

Arizona Cowboy, 4 acts, 2J4 

hrs (35c) 

Assisted by Sadie, 4 acts, IVz 

hrs (50c) 

As a Woman Thinketh, 3 acts, 

2y2 hrs (35c) 

At the End of the Rainbow, 3 

acts, 2'4 hrs (35c) 6 14 

Black Heifer, 3 acts, 2 hrs. 

(25c) 9 3 

Boy Scout Hero, 2 acts, 1^ hrs. 

(25c) 17 

Boy Scouts' Good Turn, 3 acts, 

1^ hrs (25c) 16 2 

Brookdale Farm, 4 acts, 2J4 

hrs (25c) 7 3 

Brother Josiah, 3 acts, 2 hrs. 

(25c) 7 4 

Busy Liar, 3 acts, 2J4 h. (25c) 7 4 
Call of the Colors, 2 acts, 1'/^ 

hrs (25c) 4 10 

Call of Wohelo, 3 acts, 1^ 

hrs (25c) IC 

Camouflage of Shirley, 3 acts, 

2Va hrs (35c) 8 10 

Civil Service, 3 acts, 2iA hrs. 

(35c) 

College Town, 3 acts, 2^ 

hrs (35c) 

Deacon Dubbs, 3 acts, 2iA hrs. 

(35c) 

Deacon Entangled, a actJ, 2 hrs. 

(35c) 

Down in Dixie, 4 acts, 2^ 

hrs (25c) 

Dream That Came True. 3 

acts, 2Vx hrs (35c) 6 13 

Editor-in-Chief, 1 hr (25c) 10 

Enchanted Wood, IM h.(35c).Optnl. 
Everyyouth, 3 acts, 1^ h, (25c) 7 6 
Face at the Window, 3 acts, 2 

hrs. ; (25c) 4 4 

For the Love of Johnnv, 3 

acts, 2^ hrs (50c) 

Fun on the Podunk Limited, 

yVi. hrs (30c) 

Gettin' Acquainted, 25 mm. 

(35c) 

hei Honor, the Mavor, 3 acts, 
2 hrs (35c) 



6 5 
9 8 



5 5 

6 4 



8 4 



6 3 

9 14 



3 5 



M. ■£. 

High School Freshman, 3 acts, 

2 hrs (25c) 12 

Indian Days, 1 hr (50c) 5 2 

In Plum Valley, 4 acts, 2^ 

hrs (25c) 6 4 

Jayville Junction, l*^ hrs.(25c)14 17 
Kicked Out of College, 3 acts, 

2^ hrs (35c) 10 9 

Kingdom of Heart's Content, 3 

acts, 21.^ hrs (35c) 6 13 

Laughing Cure, 2 acts, 1^ hrs. 

(35c) 4 5 

Lightiiouse Nan, 3 acts, 2^4 * 

hrs (35c> 5 4 

Little Buckshot, 3 acts, 2^4 hrs. 

(25c) 7 4 

Little Clodhopper, 3 acts, 2 

hrs (35c) 3 4 

Mirandy's Minstrels. . . . (30c) Optnl. 
;Mrs. Tubbs of Shantytown, 3 

acts, 254 hrs (35c) 4 7 

My Irigh Rose, 3 acts, 2J4 hrs. 

(35c) 6 6 

01-1 Maid's Club, 1^ hrs. (30c) 2 16 
Old Oaken Bucket, 4 acts, 2 

hrs (2Sc) 

Old School at Ilick'ry Holler, 

\Vx hrs (30cU2 ! 

On the Little Big Horn, 4 acts, 

21/2 hrs ^ (25c) 10 - 

Poor Married Man, 3 acts, 2 

hrs (35c) 4 

Prairie Rose, 4 acts, 2V7. h.(35c) 7 • 
Real Thing After All, 3 acts, 

214 hrs. (35c) 7 ! 

Rustic Romeo, 2 acts, 2J4 

hrs (35c) 101: 

Ruth in a Rush, 3 acts, 254 

hrs (3Sc) 

Safety First, 3 acts, 

254 hrs (35c) 

Southern Cinderella, 3 acts. 2 

hrs. ..(30c) 

Spark of Life, 3 acts, 

2 hrs (25c) 

Spell of the Image, 3 acts, 2J4 

hrs (35c) 10 10 

Star Bright, 3 acts, 2^^ h. (35c) 6 5 
Those Dreadful Twins, 3 acts, 

2 hrs (25c) 6 4 

Thread of Destiny, 3 acts, 2^/^ 

hrs (35c) 9 16 

Tony, the Convict, 5 acts, 2Y2 

hrs (25c) 7 4 

Trial of Hearts, 4 acts, 2J4 hrs. 

(35c) 6 18 

Trip to Storyiand, 1^4 hrs.(25c)17 23 
Uncle Josh, 4 acts, 234 hrs. (25c) 8 3 
Under Blue Skies, 4 acts. 2 

hrs (35c> 7 10 

When Smith Stepped Out, 3 

acts, 2 hrs (50c) 4 4 

Whose Little Bride Are You? 

3 acts, 254 hrs (50c) 5 5 

Winning Widow, 2 acts, VA hrs. 

(25c) 2 .4 



8 6 



S 7 



4 4 



T, S, DENISON &COMPANY, Publishers, 623 S. Wabash Ave. , Chicago 



AN IRISH STEW 



A ONE-ACT FARCE 

BY 

JEFF BRANEN 

AUTHOR OF 

'An Irish Alibi/' "The African Golf Club," "The Battle of Roaring 

Bull," "The Coon at the Door," "A Dark Secret," "Hozv 

to Stage a Minstrel Show," "Denison's Minstrel 

Opening Choruses and Finales," Etc. 




CHICAGO 
T. S. DENISON & COMPANY 
Publishers 



AN IRISH STEW 

For Six Men and Four Women^^ 

CHARACTERS. ^^^ 

Dennis Hogan A Mean Man by No Means 

Donald Hogan His Son 

Patrick Lahev His Confidential Friend 

Gaston Marcel A Tonsorial Artist 

Tim Toolin A CIose-Fisted Irishman 

Jasper Lee 4;/ FAwny Undertaker 

Marv Hogan D'£nnis's Wife 

Marian Hogan TJil^r Daughter 

Leonore Schmidt .^ Dehutanic 

Mrs. O'Flahertv / Feniperamental Widoiv 



Place — Hogan' s Front Parlor. 



Time — Any Frening. 



Time of Playing — About One Hour. 



copyright, 19i'1, BY JEFF BRANEN 

OCT 10 I9'-'I 
®C/.0 5881.'8 



AN IRISH STEW 



CHARACTERISTICS AND COSTUMES. 

Dennis — Middle-aged, •medium height and weight, dressed 
soberly and in keeping with the times. Irish make-up, bru- 
nette turning gray, with a bald pate ; smooth-shaven face 
with lines and wrinkles to indicate a hard-working head of 
a non-productive household. 

Donald — A characteristic college boy, aged about 17, 
full of dash and loyal to his colors. In college regalia ; 
coat sweater with large college letter or class numeral upon 
breast. When changing to street costume, his style is flashy 
and in keeping with the times. 

Patrick — Middle-aged and slight with characteristic 
Irish make-up, typical bald Irish red wig and side-burns. 
His dress is of the average Sunday-go-to-meeting type ; 
can be a swallow-tailed or Prince Albert coat ; flashy vest, 
gaiters, preferably white ; tan derby hat, standing collar and 
an inflammable cravat. 

Gaston — An undersized, strutting foreigner with French 
characteristics. Exaggerated foreign dress ; small black 
moustache ; long flowing watch cord of silk ribbon or fine 
gold links, suspended from neck to watch pocket ; patent 
leather pumps or shoes, with loud gaiters ; eccentric hat, 
either straw or derby ; a cane and a pair of chamois gloves. 
Aged 28. 

Tim — Middle-aged and sedate, with smooth face and the 
general appearance of the grasping type. Seldom smiles 
and delivers his lines satirically. Wears black. 

Jasper — A tall darky, aged 3?, wears long Prince Albert 
coat and high silk hat, spats and gloves to match. Tortoise- 
rimmed glasses can be added. A white or yellow chrysan- 
themum can also be worn in the lapel of coat. 

Mary — A middle-aged motherly woman of medium height 
and weight, her face lined and hair turning white to de- 
note care brought on by domestic activities. Her dress is 
of the usual housekeeping type and in keeping with the 
times. Her hair-dress is characteristic of the old-fashioned 



4 AN IRISH STEW 

mother, combed back and fastened in a knob at the back 
of the head. 

Marian — A tall, grace fnl girl, aged 19, fascinating, re- 
fined and a little inclined to be dissatisfied with her ordi- 
nary station in life, yet by no means lacking in filial devo- 
tion. Hers is the customary street costume of the times. 

Leonore- — A sweet-faced girl, aged 16, of the ''co-ed" 
type ; dressed stylishly but modestly in keeping with the 
times. 

Mrs. O'Flaiierty — A dashing widow, aged 45, dressed 
like a girl of 16 and displaying a lack of discretion in her 
selection of colors. She is tall and rather inclined toward 
a "strenuous" build. She carries a fan and a lorgnette, 
suspended from flashy chains or ribbons, both of which she 
uses whenever the least bit excited. 



SCENE PLOT. 




1 c. D. f 




STAGE DIRECTIONS. 

R. means right of stage; C, center; R.C., right center; 
L., left; R. D., right door; L. D., left door, etc.; / E., first 
entrance; U. E., upper entrance, etc. ; D. F., door in flat, or 
scene running across the back of the stage ; up stage, away 
from the footlights ; down stage, near footlights. The actor 
is supposed to be facing the audience. 



AN IRISH STEW 



Scene: The Hogans parlor, modestly furnished. Doors 
zvith interior backing, C, R. and L. Upright piano, with 
bench or stool, up R. in cdrner. Bookcase L. C, against 
flat, near C. D. Betzveen piano and C. D. a chair. Sofa 
is at L. C. Chair L. of C. D. Small table against L. flat, 
with chair. Table zvith tzvo chairs dozvn R. Adorning the 
zvalls are a fezv cheap pictures, most conspicuous being a 
large framed portrait, in colors, of a football player, near 
C. D. This is prepared so that backing may be removed 
easily and another picture inserted. 

At rise of curtain, Dennis Hogan enters from L. zvith 
cardboard portrait of a man in Jiis hand — any picture such 
as is used for zvindozv display by political candidates. He 
looks at the pictures Jianging upon tJie z^'all until his eyes 
rest upon the football star. By his actions he denotes his 
decision and instantly takes a chair, places it beneath thr. 
picture, mounts the chair and pulls dozvn picture zvith none 
too much consideration. He immediately comes dozvn from 
chair, goes to the table dozvn R., examines the back of the 
frame, lays it face dozvnzvard on table and begins to re- 
move the picture from the frame, zviiile lie is singing quietly 
to himself: 

Dennis. Sure, if ever I get back again, I'll make that 
girl m}^ bride, 
And I'll hold her in nie arms down by the tanyard side. 
(This song is repeated in bits and at intervals, as he con- 
tinues to remoz'c the football hero from the frame and to 
substitute the other, after zvhich he mounts the same chair, 
replaces the frame on the zvall, dismounts, removes the 
cJiair from the zvall to its former position, and then stands 
back to admire the nezv face from a distance, just as — ) 

Mary Hogan enters and stands studying him. 
Mary. Arrah, Dinnie, what have you done? {Goes to 

5 



6 • AN IRISH STEW 

table, picks up the football star and looks pitconsly upon it, 
and then forbiddingly at her husband.) 

Dennis. Why ax such a foolish question and ye're 
lookin' right at me? (Still admiring the nezv picture and 
not looking at his wife.) 

Mary. Where on earth did you get that chromo? This 
is no place for him. I'll not spoil me parlor with a freak 
like that. 

Dennis (turning upon her). Be careful what you're 
sayin' ! You and I don't very often have words. But if 
you say another word against that face up there, you might 
as well prepare yourself — 

Mary. AVhat will poor Donald think to see his hero dis- 
carded for a mug like that? 

Dennis. Mary Ann! (Sco7vls at her.) 

Mary. The parlor is no place for either, but if I must 
put up with one or the other, haul that ,pie-face down and 
put this one back where it was. 

Dennis. I'll do nothin' of the kind. That picture'll 
stay right where it is, there on that wall, till I get good 
and ready to take it down. And let me tell you, Mary 
Ann, never let me hear you refer to that friend of mine 
as a mug — or chromo — or pie-face. 

Mary (both coming to table, one on either side). Who 
is he and what is he? 

Dennis (mimicking her). "Who is he and what is he?" 
Divilish well you know icho he is and 7vJiat he is. 

Mary. Faith 'n I don't, Dinnie. 

Dennis. Faith 'n you do, Mary Ann. But you're so div- 
ilish contrary you w'u'dn't admit it. 

Mary. 'Deed, an' I'm not contrary. 'Tis you that's con- 
trary. 

Dennis. Since whin am I contrary? 

Mary. Always. Always, Dinnie. You wouldn't be nat- 
ural if you wasn't. You wouldn't be Irish. (Dennis gizrs 
her a hard look, ponts a little and seems lost for luords.) 
But you haven't answered the question I axed you. 

Dennis. What question? 



AN IRISH STEW 7 

Mary. Who is he? 

Dennis. What difference does it make, so long as 
you've taken such a disUke to him ? 

Mary. I want to know, so long as you say he must hang 
there. Suppose somebody axes me who he is, what am I 
to tell thim? 

Dennis. Tell 'em it's none of their infernal business ! 

Mary. Arrah, Dinnie. Maybe you would, but I wouldn't. 

Dennis. Tell 'em it's Brian Boru. 

Mary. Arrah, who is that, Dinnie? 

Dennis (in disgust). "Arrah, who's that, Dinnie?" Just 
as if you didn't know! 

Mary. 'Deed, 'n I don't. 

Dennis. 'Deed 'n you do, but you don't want to admit it. 
Brian Boru was the greatest king Ireland iver had. 

Mary. I never knew that Ireland had a king. 

Dennis (again repeating in disgust). *'I never knew 
that Ireland had a king!" Mary Ann, I'm ashamed of you. 
I'm ashamed of you because you act like you were ashamed 
you're Irish. No country iver had as great a king as Ire- 
land had. And no country iver had the makin's of as great 
kings as Ireland has. The only rea-son why she hasn't a 
king of her own right now is because it would be a divil- 
ish hard matter to decide among thimselves just who would 
be king. They all would want to be. 

Mary. But you haven't told me yet what I want to 
know the most. Who is y'r friend on the wall? I ax you 
for the last time. 

Dennis. The new president of the bricklayers' associ- 
ation. (Tunis and casts an admiring glance up at tlie pic- 
ture.) Another Irishman smart enough to be a king. 

Mary. I thought, Dinnie, you were slated for that office. 

Dennis. So I was, but — (turns and looks at her). 

Mary. But what? 

Dennis. He got the most votes. ^ 

Mary. Why was that, Dinnie? 

Dennis. Ax Lahey, whin he comes. 



8 AN IRISH STEW 

Mary. Thin why should you hang his picture on your 
own wall if he kept you out of office? 

Dennis. Because I always believe in forgettin' politics 
after election. I'm for the choice of the majority no mat- 
ter what party elected him. I'm been votin' for a Dimo- 
crat for president of these great United States iver since 
I sot foot in America, and seldom has me man won ; but 
that has niver affected me loyalty. I'm for the president, 
first, last and always. Where's Mary Ann? 

Mary. What are you sayin', Dinnie? 

Dennis. I axed you, where's Mary Ann? 

Mary. Don't be callin' your darlin' daughter such 
names ! Her name ain't Mary Ann. 

Dennis. Since whin? 

Mary (imitatirely). ''Since whin!" Now, who is it 
that's contrary? 

Dennis. Mary Ann was the name I gev her at her 
christenin'. I had her "named after you. 'Twas good 
enough for you, and why ain't it good enough for her? 

Mary. Don't be foolish, Dinnie. Mary Ann is all right 
for an ould woman like me, but not for a young girl steppin' 
out in society. Call her Marian. 

Dennis. There you go, with your high-falutin' notions! 
(With mockery.) Marian! Marian Hogan! Faith, she'd 
be a long time in Ireland before they'd call her Marian. 

Mary. But we're not in Ireland now, Dinnie. 

Dennis. W'hat difference does it make where we are? 
A name is a name! What the Dutch call limburger would 
smell as bad by any other name. I tell you, her name is 
Mary Ann, and Mary Ann she'll be called, if I have any- 
thing to say in this house ! 

Mary. You can't be too severe with the childer. Com- 
mon Bible names like yours and mine ain't in style nowa- 
days. Other people's childer have classic names like the 
heroes and heroines in fiction, and it's no more than right 
that our childer kape pace with the times. You'll insist on 
callin' y'r son Donald "Dinnie," just like as if you was 
talkin' to y'rself. (Dennis sJwa's annoyance.) An' it 



AN IRISH STEW 9 

makes him so mad that he's thinkin' of puttin' the letter '*A" 
in front of Donald, makin' his name A. Donald Hogan. 

Dennis (suddenly). What you say? 

Mary (chuckling). You heard what I said. 

Dennis (contemptuously). "A. Donald Hogan!" Let 
me catch him puUin' any of that high-brow stuff around 
here and I'll clip his wings for him. ''Marian Hogan!" 
What the divil is to become of us? Ah, it's all your fault, 
bringin' up a son and a daughter to be ashamed of their 
own father and mother. Whin a mother has no jurisdic- 
tion over such childer, it's high time the father took hould 
and brought the whole pack of yez back to where ye be- 
long. "A. Donald." (Scozvling.) "Marian." Where is she, 
I axed you ? 

Mary. Who? Marian? 

Dennis. No, Mary Ann. (Mary makes no reply.) 
Why don't you answer me? 

Mary. I know of no Mary Ann other than meself. 

Dennis. Now who's contrary? 

Mary. Dinnie, I ain't contrary. I only want me way. 
(He looks critically at her.) An' what I want, Dinnie, I 
gin'rally get! (Looks at him sternly.) 

Dennis. Of course you do. To kape peace in the family 
one or the other of us must give in. And you're not the 
one. H you insist on me calhn' our daughter Mary Ann 
"Marian," for the sake of society, then tell me. Where is 
she? 

Mary. Who ? 

Dennis. Faith, but y're headstrong! Marian! Marian, 
if that's sweeter music to y'r ears! 

Mary. She went to the matinee ; to the opera. 

Dennis. I thought as much. With the frog-eater, I 
suppose? 

Mary. Mr. Marcel is no frog-eater. He says he doesn't 
care for them. 

Dennis. Like the rest of yc, he's ashamed of his ances- 
tors. 

Mary. I wouldn't say that, Dinnie. You mustn't be 



10 AN IRISH STEW 

givin' y'r tongue a bad habit. Mr. Marcel comes from 
dacent people. 

Dennis. How do you know what he came from? 

Mary. I'm only takin' his word for it. 

Dennis. That's good proof. If his father was a horse- 
thief or a highway robber, the first thing he'd do, I sup- 
pose, is to run to you and say : "Mrs. Hogan, me father 
was a horse-thief and a highway robber, but that makes 
me a gentleman of Frince. I want to marry y'r daughter." 
Don't believe what anyone says about themsilves. 

Mary. I took y'r word for what you was. I didn't 
know you from Adam, but that didn't kape you from 
boostin' y'rself to the skies. An' I found out to me sor- 
row that all you said about y'rself was far from bein' gos- 
pel. 

Dennis. That's why I'm tellin' you not to believe every- 
thing people say about thimselves. This Frinch barber 
that's kapin' company with our Mary Ann — I beg pardon. 
"Marian" (sarcastically) — claims to be a nobleman. Why, 
he ain't even a good barber. I tell you, I don't like his looks. 

Mary. Well, Marian does, so why should we interfere? 
She's the one who has to cook him the frog-legs if, as you 
say, he's lyin' about himself. 

Dennis. Ah, Mary Ann, y're losin' what little sense 
you had whin I married you. Who wants a Frinchman 
for a son-in-law, whin there's plinty of fine Irish boys too 
good for her, who would marry her in a minute if she'd 
only ax one of 'em. 

Mary. In the first place, Dinnie, Marian ain't goin' to 
ax anyone to marry her. And in the second place, she'll 
never spoil anyone's life by marry in' him whin he's too 
good for her. It's a fine opinion you have of y'r only 
daughter. But you don't mane what you say. There 
ain't that man livin' this side of Jericho too good for my 
Marian. 

Dennis. She's as nuich mine as she is yours! 

Mary. You wouldn't think so, to hear you talk. (Walks 
away from him.) 



AN IRISH STEW 11 

Dennis. Arrah, y're too sinsitive, Mary Ann. I'm as 
crazy about her as you are. Tm only talkin' to hear meself . 
Where's Dinnie, Junior? Why ain't he home by now? 

Mary. There's no Dinnie Junior in this family. You 
will insist on callin' Donald Dinnie Junior. 

Dennis (disgusted). Well, if that wouldn't sour y'r 
molasses ! No Dinnie Junior in this family ! Well, well, 
well! Is there an A. Donald Hogan residin' here in this 
house? (Sarcastically.) 

Mary. There is. 

Dennis. Is the gentleman expected home this avenin' ? 

Mary. As soon as the football game is over, him and 
his finance are to mate Marian and her finance here. After 
that they're all goin' to a masquerade. 

Dennis. The divil take him an' futtball! (Grabs up 
picture of football star and fires it across the room. Mary 
looks darkly but does not move to pick it up.) Since whin 
has he been dabblin' in finance? Lena Schmidt, I suppose? 

Mary. No, Dinnie. Not Lena, Leonore. 

Dennis. Ah, it's crazy y're gettin' in y'r ould age, you 
an' y'r codfish aristocracy. "Leonore !" Have you any 
money ? 

Mary. Faith I haven't, Dinnie. 

Dennis. Of coorse you haven't. How could you? 
(Sizing up the room.) You spind it as fast as it comes in, 
with y'r piannies an' y'r Broosel carpets an' y'r mahogany 
furniture and y'r books an' fancy bookcases. Sure, y'd 
think it was the parlor of an Astorbilt, the way you put on 
airs ! You didn't used to be that way — only since y'r childer 
began runnin' the house. 

Mary. What money I have I must pay on a phonygraft 
that's liable to be here any minute. 

Dennis. A phonygraft ! (Studying her.) Who ordered 
it? 

Mary. I did, Dinnie. 

Dennis. What for? 

Mary. F'r the young folks to dance by. 

Dennis. What's the matter with the pianny? 



12 AN IRISH STEW 

Mary. There's no one to play it. 

Dennis. What's the matter with Mary (correcting him- 
self) — Marian? Since whin has she forgot to play, after 
all the money I've spint on her pianny lessons? 

Mary. Ah, Dinnie, but she can't play an' dance at the 
same time. 
(Voices and laughter are heard off stage through C. D.) 

Dennis. There she is for you, now ; an' the frog-eater. 
I kin tell by his foolish laugh. 

Marian Hogan enters C. D., all excitement, followed by 
Gaston Marcel, more excited than she. 

Marion. Oh, ma-maa (accent on second syllable), the 
opera was just exquisite ! (Rushes up to Mary, follozved 
by Gaston. Dennis starts to exit R., but stops and looks 
on in disgust as Gaston enthuses.) 

Gastpn. Grand ! Beautee-f ool ! Ze grand opairah, Mad- 
ame Hogaan. You should see zee ladee ! Beautee-f ool ! 
Ze costume ! More beautee-fool ! An' ze moozeek ! Ungh ! 
(A nasal exclamation accompanied tvith a kiss throzam by 
fingers from lips at thought of music.) Wondeer-fool, ze 
moozeek. 

Dennis. Ah, me eye! (Close to R. D. as he is abotit to 
exit. ) 

Gaston (advancing part zvay tozcard Dennis). Poo- 
poo for you ! 

Dennis. If you poo-poo me I'll poo-poo you! (Exit 
R. D.) 

Marian (rushing tozmrd same exit). Pa-paa ! (Looks 
angrily after him.) 

Gaston. Ah ! You know ze meaning of poo-poo ? 

Marian (to Gaston, as she conies back tozvard Mary). 
Pa-paa in English means father. 

Gaston. A-ha. In ze French, poo-poo means heem, ze 
fazzir, also. Ze pa-paa ees one poo-poo. 

Mary. Pay no attention to me husband, Mr. Marcel. 
He's only havin' some fun with yez. 

Marian. No, Gaston. Pa-paa is not responsible for 
what he says and does sometimes. 



AN IRISH STEW 13 

Gaston. In Paree, zat one eensiilt — zen ze challenge ! 
Ze pa-paa zen must fight ze duel ! 

Mary. No, no, no. Mr. Marcel. My Dinnie'd never do 
ihat. No duel for my Dinnic. 

Marian. You don't understand, ma-maa. Gaston say^ 
that if such an insult were flung at him in Paree, pa-paa 
would have to fight him a duel. 

Mary. It's luck we're here where we are. Somebody 
would surely get kilt. 

Gaston {hozving low to the tzvo zvomcn). Madame an' 
ze Mademoiselle, I beg ze pardohn. Ze pa-paa he poo- 
pood me, an' for zat I leave zis house veree queek. (Goes 
to C. D. and starts to bow out.) 

Dennis enters R. D. 

Dennis (entering). Is he gone? (Laughs.) 

Gaston (at C. D.). Bah! (Exit C. D.) 

Dennis (going to C. D.). So long, Frinchy ! {Turns 
to front and sees Marian zvith head cuddled in Mary's 
arms, as if crying.) What's the matter with you? (Marian 
makes no response.) Mary Ann! I'm talkin' to you. (She 
does not lift her head.) 

Mary. Call her by her proper name, Dinnie, and she'll 
answer you. 

Dennis. I'm talkin' to you, Marian. 

Marian. Yes, pa-paa? 

Dennis. Come over here to me! (Marian straightens 
up and begins to dry eyes zvith handkerchief.) Come here, 
I say. (Mary starts to protest.) 

Mary. Don't be cross with her, Dinnie. 

Dennis (to Mary). Leave 'er to me. There's some- 
thin' burnin' in the kitchen, Mary Ann. Go see what it is. 
(Mary hurriedly exits R.) Come over here, darlin' ! (Ma- 
rian comes closer and stands in awkward position.) 
Straighten up and look at me! (She does so.) Shmile, why 
don't you? (Marian smiles just a little.) Am I the cause 
of y'r tears? 

Marian. You've insulted him. He's gone, and he'll 



14 AN IRISH STiaV 

never come back. (Lifts Jiaiidkcrchicf to eyes and feigns 
more tears.) 

Dennis. Don't fool y'rself. Vou'U never get rid of that 
fellow that 'asy. 

Marian {facing her father). I don't want to get rid of 
him. Why should I ? He promised some day to take me 
to Paree and introduce me into society. His people are 
the very first families of France. He is to take me there 
on our honeymoon. 

Dennis. Whin he sells out his barber shop, I suppose. 

Marjax. There you go, casting reflections upon him 
because he tries to make an honest living. 

Dennis. Ah, but, Marian, he ain't makin' an honest 
livin'. He charges twinty-five cints fur a shave and a hair- 
cut, and it ain't worth it. I kin shave meself and Mary 
Ann can cut me hair a dom sight better than he kin, and 
I'm a quarter ahead. I tell you. me little girl, none of 
those fortune-hunting foreigners are worth a tinker's hoot. 
If he was from the nobility of France he wouldn't have to 
be a barber. I tell you, it's best for you to have nothin' 
at all to do with him. I don't like him and he don't like 
me. An' between the two of us there's divilish little love 

^*^^^- Mary enters R. 

Mary. I found nothin' burnin', Dinnie. 

Dennis {to Marian). There's plinty of y'r own kind 
here at home that ye kin marry without throwin' y'rself 
away on a Frinch frog-eater. 

Marian {as Mary steps forward to listen). In America 
there should be no race distinctions. A Frenchman is as 
much to be considered as an Irishman, if he swears alleg- 
iance to our flag, and that's what he intends doing. 

Dennis. There's a wdiole lot that swear allegiance to 
the Stars and Stripes who don't mean one word of what 
they're sayin'. 

Mary. Dinnie ! 

Marian. But you'll find that they are not French. The 
French have been the truest friends America ever had. 



AX IRISH STEW 15 

Dennis. Oh, yis. The Frinch government has been 
America's friend. But— 

Mary. Dinnie. I'm spakin' to yuu. 

Dennis, A\'hat i> it. Mary .\nn? 

]\Iak\'. J found nothin' burnin'. 

Dennjs. \\'hy didn't }-ou look in the stove? (Marian 
langJis.) 

i^IAR^'. Go on out of that. I've a notion to sUim you 
with the broad of me hand, so \ have. {Comes fozvard 
h'nii as sounds of z'oiccs arc heard.) Here":- Donakk now. 

]\iARJAN. And Gaston, too. Now, ])a-])aa. (k) l)ehave 
yourself. 

Dennis. Did;Tt I tell you you couldn't shake him? 

Enter Donald with Gaston on one arm, protesting, and 
Leonore on the other. Gaston Jiurrics io Marian, 
Leonore to Mar\ and Donald to his father. 

Donald. I tell you. dad. I saw the swellest football 
game. You ought to see the way Bill Splivins went through 
that bunch of yokels I {Sees picture on -zcalL) Who tlr' 
deuce is that gink ? 

Dennis. He's no gink. I'll have you to understan'. 

Donald {turning to his father). What became of Bill 
Splivins? 

Dennis. Who? The baboon that was in the frame? 

Donald. Don't you call him a baboon. 

Dennis. Be careful what you say to \'r father! 

(Mary and Leonore c.vit into kitchen, R., and Marian, 
followed. by Gaston, goes to piano. Marjan sits on bench 
and Gaston leans on piano, talking to her and occasionally 
casting angry glances tozcard Dennjs.) 

Donald. Gee. dad. that was the picture of the greatest 
football star in America I 

Dennis. An' that's the picture of the greates' friend 
that labor has in the whole world! (AIarian plays piano 
softly while she and Gaston arc conversing seriously.) 

Donald (spying picture of Splivins across the room, gets 
up and goes after it). That's no way to treat a real guy, 



16 AN IRISH STEW 



(lad ! {Comes back, zviping picture on sleeve of his szveater.) 
If you saw the way he went through that bunch of rough- 
necks today for five different touchdowns, you'd have gone 
crazy. I tell you, he's the greatest star this burg ever 
turned out ! He'll make the All- Americans as sure as 
shooting. And to think his place in our hall of fame has 
been usurped bv a mutt like that! {Gazes at picture on 
imll.) 

Dennis. Well thin, that mutt, or gink, or whatever you 
want to call him, is goin' to stay right where he is on that 
wall there forninst you. Who is Bill SpHvins? Son of ould 
man Splivins? {Strains of the Flozver Song come faintly 
from the piano.) 

Donald. I suppose so. What old man Splivins do you 
mean ? 

Dennis. Ould hair-lip Jeremiah. 

Donald. Aw gosh, no, dad. He's a harp. 

Dennis. A zvhat? 

Donald. A turkey. 

Dennis. Who's a turkey? 

Donald. Jeremiah Splivins. 

Dennis. What do you mane by a turkey? 

Donald. An Irishman. . 

Dennis. An' that's a disgrace, is it? 

Donald. No, not if you're not all the time bragging 
about it. Bill Splivins is an American, born in this 
country. 

Dennis. So were you born in this country, and what 
does that make you? 

Donald. An American, dad, ev'ry inch of me. 

Dennis. Me lad, I'm proud of you. Proud to hear you 
talk like that. I'm an American, but I'm an American by 
choice. You're only one by chance. What ticket are you 
goin' to vote nixt fall whin you come of age? 

Donald. The Republican, dad. 

Dennis {scratching his head). It's 'asy seein' y'r mother 
had the handlin' of you. Dinnie Hogan, Junior — 



AN IRISH STEW 17 

Donald. Have a heart, dad. Have a heart. Here's my 
name. (Hands him a card.) 

Dennis {takes card, reads it and tears it up as he looks 
up at his son). A. Donald Hogan, son of Dinnie Hogan, 
goin* to marry Lena Schmidt an' vote the RepubHcan ticket 
when he comes of age. What the divil is gittia' into ye 
young rebels? 

Donald. But you see, dad, I hold a responsible position. 
I must Americanize myself, and above all, I must affiliate 
with a political party that represents big interests. T can't 
line up with a bunch of dead ones. 

Dennis. A. Donald Hogan, son of — What's that last 
remark ? 

Donald. The president of the bank I'm working for 
would have nothing to do with me if I were a Democrat 

Dennis. Since whin have you been workin' for a bank? 

Donald. This morning. 

Dennis. An' you laid off this afternoon to go to a futt- 
ball game. (Studies Jiiiu suspiciously.) What are you, the 
cashier? 

Donald. Oh, no, not yet. Wait until I'm there a couple 
of weeks. 

Dennis. You'll have the president's job by then, and 
maybe you can vote to suit y'rself. I tell you. the boys 
of this generation has it forty ways on their fathers. 

Donald. We know it, dad, but we're not bragging about 
it. 

Dennis. Oh, yis. It would take a mighty brainy man to 
make a boy these times. 

Donald. Right you are, dad. 

Dennis. George Washington, if he was livin' today, 
wouldn't be half the hero y'r friend Bill Splivins is. 

Donald. I should say not. 

Dennis (fiercely). Go on out of that before 1 break me 
fist on y'r jaw. (Sivings back as if to strike Donald, then 
laughs.) How much money d' you git at the bank where 
y're workin'? 



18 AN IRISH STEW 

Donald. Oh, I don't know yet. We haven't decided on 
just how much — 

Dennis. We ! You mean he. He hasn't decided. 
Well, if you were supportin' that fellow up there in that 
frame on the wall instead of Bill Splivins, y'r futtball hero, 
y'd dom quick know what you was gittin'. 

Leonore enters from R. and Mary ealls from off- 
stage, R. 

Mary. Dinnie, come here. 

Dennis. Yis, Mary Ann, in a minute. (To Donald.) 
Have you any money? 

(Leonore joins Marian and Gaston and all converse.) 

Donald. Not any more than I need myself. ( Lookhuj 
toK'ard piano.) We're all going to the masquerade, and 
I'll have to pay for everybody. 'Fhe Frenchman liasn't any 
money. 

Dennis. Ihin what is lie hangin' around y'r si.ster for? 
Does he think I'm a bloated bondholder, whin I haven't the 
])rice to pay me dues in the lodge I belong to? 

Mary {off stage). Dinnie, do \()u hear me? 

Dennis. Yis, Mary Ann. I'm comin'. ( Starting toward 
exit, R. D., speaks to Donald.) Kape y'r eye on the frog- 
eater. 

Gaston {overhearing last remark). Poo-poo for you. 

Dennis. Poo-poo for vou. vou blatherskite! {Exit R. 

Donald ( unmindfnl of Gaston's e.veitedness). Sing 
something, Leonore. 

Leonore. Oh, I can't sing, Donald. You do the enter- 
taining. 

Gaston. Let Mademoiselle Marian seeng someteeng a- 
la-Francais. Vot ze name — "Oo — la — la — " Zat's funnee 
song. Seeng, Mademoiselle. 

Donald {jeeringly). Ah, that song's a dead one! 

Gaston {pu::;::;led). Dead one? What you mean, dead 
one? 



AN IRISH STEW 19 

(Marian starts playing a lirelv niniihcr. D(riVALD catches 
Leonorf. iiiid tJicy start daiiring.) 

Maui AN (lo (/astox). Wait until wc get our phono- 
graph. Then we all can dance. 

(Here specialties can be introduced if desired. At their 
conclusion, the doorbell rings.) 

Donald. You answer, Marian. I must get out of this 
sweater into my glad rags if we go to that masquerade 
tonight. {Exit L. D.) 

Marian, jumping up from bench, goes to C. D. and ad- 
mits Patrick Lahey. 

Marian. Good-evening, Mr. Lahey. 

Pat {bowing rigJit and left). Good-avenin', everybody. 
{Addressing Marian.) Is y'r father home? 

Marian. Oh, yes. Have a seat. I'll call him. {Starts 
to exit R.) 

Pat. I'm in no hurry. Finish what you were playin'. 
I'm stuck on music but the only kind we ever hear at our 
house is the ould w^oman's washboard. {All langh, Gaston 
the loudest.) 

Marian. First let me introduce you. Mr. Lahey, meet 
Mr. Marcel, my fiance. (They boiv, Gaston the lozver.) 
Leonore — where are you, Leonore? (Leonore, zvho Jias 
strolled across L., returns.) Meet Mr. Lahey, Miss Schmidt. 
(BotJi bozv.) Miss Schmidt is my brother Donald's fiancee. 

Pat. It's a league of nations ye must be formin' in 
this house. (All laugh again, Gaston much louder. Pat 
casts a vicious look at Gaston and it is evident that neither 
has been impressed with the other.) Play somethin', I 
axed you, Miss Marian. 

(Gaston engages Leonore /;/ conversation apparently 
about Pat.) 

Marian. I'm not much of a player, Mr. Lahey. 

Pat. From what y'r father says, you must be a great 
player. You tuck enough of lessons to play anything. 

Marian. I'm sure I don't just know what to play to 
please you most. 



20 AN IRISH STEW 

Pat. Ah, "The Irish Washerwoman" or "Miss Mc- 
riniKl's Reel" suits me all right. 

AIakiax (soiiirh'Iiiil abashed). I'm sorry, Mr. Lahey, 
but 1 haveu'l the music for them. 

Pat. You don't need it. Anybody who plays anything, 
esi>ecially if they got a drop of Irish blood in thim that 
they're not ashamed of, could play either of 'em with their 
eyes shut. 

Marian (springing up from piano). That's an uncalled 
for remark. 

Gaston (stepping quickly to ^Iarian's side). Wat ees 
it. Mademoiselle? Ze zhenteelman say something you no 
like? {Turns and glares at Pat.) 

Marian. Don't excite yourself, Gaston. (Turns and 
again sits at piano.) 

Gaston. Ah, Mademoiselle Hoogaahn, play for me ze 
grand Marseillaise. {TJirozvs kiss to express extreme de- 
light, as AIarian starts playing the Marseillaise. He sings 
some of the words in his nasal accent, somewhat out of 
tune for comedy effect. Leonore crosses from the piano 
and sits close to Pat, more to be polite than agreeable, for 
it is evident that Pat has queered himself with the three.) 

Pat (leaning tozvard Leonore and talking in an under- 
tone). How does that tune strike y'r fancy? 

Leonore. I love it, Mr. Lahey. 

Pat. But you love the Wacht Am Rhine lots better. 

Leonore. By that remark you wish to insinuate that I 
am German? 

Pat. No insinuation. A mere statement of facts. 

Leonore. You are mistaken. I admit I'm of German 
extraction. But in America there is an amalgamation of 
races — no such distinction as French, German, Italian, Nor- 
wegian or Irish, or any other race. Wg who have adopted 
this country as our own. and we who have been born here, 
should be classed only as Americans. The sooner the rising 
generation takes a firm stand and gives the world to under- 
stand that Americans are for America only — that we recog- 



AN IRISH STEW 21 

nize no fatherlands or motherlands — the better it will be 
for all concerned. 

Dennis Hogan enters from R. in time to hear the last 
declaration. Marian stops playing. Gaston turns from 
piano, a little nervous, and eyes Dennis as he advances 
tozvard Pat and Leonore. 

Dennis (to Pat). Put that in y'r pipe and smoke it! 
Donald enters, dressed for the street, from L. 

Dennis (to Leonore). More power to you. Give me 
y'r hand. From now on, I'll call you Leonore, not Lena. 
(They shake.) 

Donald. Here, dad, cut that out. 

Dennis. Never you mind. Lave Lena to — I beg y'r 
pardon! Leonore, I should say. (Leonore laughs for- 
givingly and Donald approaches smilingly. Marian and 
Gaston assist each other, preparing to go.) I was goin' to 
say, lave Leonore to me. (Giving Donald a nudge and a 
wink.) But I don't suppose y'd want to do that. (Leonore 
and Donald laugh heartily.) 

Donald (laughing). Ah, there's no harm in you, dad. 

Dennis (seriously). Don't be so sure about that. (Mar- 
ian, Gaston, Donald and Leonore start toivard C. D.) 
Aren't ye all early for the masquerade? 

Leonore. They're all coming down to my house for 
tea. (Exit the four, Gaston last, glaring at Dennis.) 

Dennis (as they go). All of yez have a good time. (To 
Gaston.) None of y'r poo-pooin', you pollywog! Have a 
good time, childer. (They call hack similar good wishes.) 
You, too, Leonore. 

Leonore (calling hack). Wait till you and I get alone 
sometime, Mr. Hogan. 

Dennis (calling after her). We'll show 'em all, so we 
will. (Waves good-night, then cogues dozvn and addresses 
Pat.) That's a fine girl, that Lena Schmidt. 

Pat. Ah, she's Dutch. 

Dennis. Will you ever git that stuff out of y'r system? 
You heard what she said to you, didn't you? It's true, 



22 AN IRISH STEW 

every word of it. The sooner the foreign element in this 
country who have sworn allegiance to the Stars and Stripes 
forgets that there is any other country on the map of the 
world closer to the heart than this grand and glorious United 
States, the sooner Europe will find out that our business is 
nobody else's but our own, and that for the future, it will 
be best for her to keep her nose out of our affairs. Of 
course, I'd like to see Ireland get her freedom. 

Pat {pulling out a short clay pipe and lighting it zvith- 
out permission). It's a wonder y'd admit it. 

Dennis. Lahey, there's no use talkin' but y're thick. 

Pat. Maybe I am, but if I had the education you have, 
an' flow of speech, you can bet y'r bottom dollar I'd been 
president of the bricklayers' union in place of that fellow 
up there. (Eyeing picture frame.) 

Dennis. Say no more about the president of the brick- 
layers. Are you goin' to the meetin' tonight? 

Pat. I am. Are you? 

Dennis. I'm not. 

Pat. Why not? 

Mar^' enters from R. and stands listening. 

Dennis. I haven't the price of me dues. What small 
change I had I spint runnin' for office. Have you any 
money ? 

Pat. What I have I need meself to pay me own dues. 

Dennis. I thought as much. That's the cry of every- 
body. I could get it from Mary Ann, but she's ordered a 
phonygraft. 

Mary {surprising him). The phonygraft can wait, Din- 
nie. Here, take this and go pay y'r dues and kape up y'r 
reputation in the union. (Hands him some bills.) 

Dennis. I'll do nothin' of the kind. The phonygraft 
sha'n't wait. That's y'r Christmas present to the childer. 
and the childer is more to us than any organization. (Med- 
itates.) If that divil of a tightwad, Tim Toolin. would 
pay me that two hundred he owes me, I wouldn't have to 
ax anybody for money. 

Pat. Fat chance you have of gettin' money from Toolin. 



AN IRISH STEW 23 

Mary. He's owed us that money fur the last tin years, 
ever since he buried his uncle. 

Dennis. Think of borrowin' money to bury an uncle 
who left him an estate worth fifty thousand dollars. 

Pat. Why haven't you axed him fur it? 

Dennis. I have axed him fur it — axed him till me 
throat was raw. 

Mary. An' so have I axed him fur it. 

Dennis. I've axed him as often as tin times a day for 
wan whole year, but it did no good. I suppose if I should 
die and INIary Ann, here, should go to him weepin' an' 
mournin' an' ax him to do unto others as he had been done 
by, why then — 

Pat (ivith a start). I have an idea! 

Dennis. You have, have you? Y're in the habit of 
havin' ideas. That's what you said you had whin you 
placed my name in nomination against him {pointing to pic- 
ture). You kept bobbin' up in the convention every five 
minutes whin you knew you was out of order, until the 
chairman, in order to git rid of you, gave you the floor. 
That was y'r very first remark — *T've got an idea." That 
was the very first remark that caused the whole conven- 
tion to holler 'Throw him out." An' y'r nixt sintence was : 
*T nominate Dinnie Hogan for prisident." That was as far 
as you got. 

Pat {lucditativcly). I wonder who the other fellow was 
who voted for you beside meself. (Mary laughs heartily.) 

Dennis (disgustedly). You do, do you? It's informa- 
tion y're lookin' for. Come on! \\niat's your new idea? 

Pat (profoundly). Why don't you die? 

Mary (zvith a start). Pat! \A'hat are you sayin'? 

Dennis. Never mind him, Mary Ann. He's more to be 
])itied than censured. 

Pat. T don't mean what you mean. ( Explains patiently 
to Mary.) Let Dinnie only pretind he's dead. Lay him 
out on that sofa, there, and cover him up with a sheet, an' 
we'll hould a wake. I'll go out and spread the news that 



24 AN TRTSH STEW 

Dinnie Hogan met with an accident and died a few minutes 
after. Tim Toolin is a great hand to attend wakes. 

Dennis. I've heard it said that lie'd steal the pennies 
off of a dead man's eyes. 1 suppose that's how he gits his 
reputation. 

Pat (unmindful of the last remark). Whin he comes to 
pay his respects to the dead, Mary Ann here* can put up a 
poor mouth, an' Toolin, perhaps, will fall for the guff. 

Mary. Perhaps ! 

Dennis (to Pat). That's the best idea y've struck since 
I've known you. He used to have a crush on Mary Ann 
back home in Ireland. Didn't he, Mary Ann? 

Mary. Faith, I could've had him any time I wanted him. 
But I didn't want him. 

Dennis. Not after you saw me. 

Mary. Ah, thin you hate y'rself, don't you, Dinnie? 
(They exchange affectionate glances.) 

Pat. Come. If you're goin' to die, die and be done 
with it. You haven't any time for that mush stuff. 

Dennis (turning to Pat). It won't do to tell too many 
I'm dead. Just tell Toolin and one or two others, and tell 
thim to tell nobody else. 

Pat. Lave it to me who to tell. I'm doin' the tellin\ 
(Starting tozvard C. D.) 

Dennis. Hould on a minute. What sort of an accident 
have I met with? Let's all understand one another. 

Mary. Tell 'em that Dinnie fell from a chair and 
bumped his poor head on the side of it. 

Dennis. That's the story to tell 'em, Lahey. Be off 
with yez. (Pat exits.) (To Mary.) Git the sheet, 
Mary Ann, and — Wait a minute. Git some of that red 
stuff that Marian plasters her Hps with. (Rushes to C. D. 
and calls after Pat.) Wait a minute, Pat! (Mary exits, 
L., and Pat returns.) Whisper. Don't forgit to tell 
Widow O'Flaherty. I want to have some fun with Mary 
Ann. (Pat laughs and nods, as he exits.) Be quick, Mary 
Ann. Lahey hasn't far to go. 

Mary enters L. zvith sheet and stick of rouge. 



AN IRISH STEW 25 

Mary. I've been thinkin'. You didn't tell Lahey to tell 
'em what you were doin' on the chair that would make you 
fall off. 

Dennis. What dift'erence does it make what I was doin' 
on the chair, just so long as I fell from it and kilt meself ? 
Lahey don't need to know the particulars. {She stands 
waiting.) You can tell 'em I was straightenin' his picture. 
That will sound plausible. 

Mary. What do you want me to do with this red stuff? 

Dennis. Paint a deep gash across me forr'ed. (She 
starts marking the cut.) Make it look natural. 

Mary {laughing). Ah, Dinnie, I hate to do this. 

Dennis. Cut out the funny stuff. {She laughs again as 
she finishes and drazvs azvay.) Fetch me the lookin' glass 
an' let me see meself as others will see me ! {She hurries 
and brings hand mirror from L.) You did a good job of 
it, so you did. I'd swear I was a fit subject for the hos- 
pital. {Turns and looks at her, as if pleased by her clev- 
erness.) {Voices are heard in the halhvay.) 

Mary. Hurry! On to the sofa with you. (Dennis 
hastily stretches out.) Lay straight on the broad of y'r 
back and fold y'r arms. {He complies.) It's azy seein' 
that you was never dead before. {She starts laughing.) 

Dennis. W' hisht, Mary Ann ! {She spreads sJieet over 
him.) Stop y'r laughin'! This is no laughin' matter. 

Mary. Ah, Dinnie, it's a sin to do this. Shure 'n' it's 
cryin' I should be in place of laughin', you look so natural. 
Lay still, I tell you. 

Voices drazv closer and Mary sits quickly beside sofa, 
boived in sudden display of grief, as Marian, ayid then 
Gaston, enter, both looking on floor as if they had lost 
something. Mary pokes Dennis and commands him to 
''lay still" in a subdued whisper. 

Dennis {lifting cover from face and zvhispering back to 
her). Y're smotherin' me. (Marian and Gaston start at 
sound of zvhisper and look at each other, then look back 
on the floor.) 



26 AN IRISFi STEW 

Marian (pointing to a glove on the floor.) Ah, there it 
is, Ga.ston! 

Gasiun {picks up glove with a sivecping hozv). Per- 
meet me, Mademoiselle Mareean. {Holds up glove, as Ma- 
rian sees her mother iveeping beside tlie sofa.) 

Marian (rushing to Jier motJier, and followed by Gas- 
ton). What has happened, ma-maa? (Mary shakes head 
as it rests in Jier hands and moans aloud. IMarian shakes 
Jier mother, then sJirieks as she sees the body on the sofa.) 
What's happened, I ask you? 

Gaston (excited). Tell ze Mademoiselle what has hap- 
pened. 

Mary (uncovering Jier face and looking sadly at Marian, 
but giving Jier a very big zvink.) Y'r poor father is dead. 

Gaston (starting for C. D.). Dead? 

Marian (pretending to weep). What happened to 
pa-paa ? 

Mary. Fell from that chair there whin he was straight- 
enin' that picture, an' hit his poor head on the side of it. 
Look, how it battered his poor f orr'ed ! (SJie uncovers the 
face. Dennis lies with a set expression, as if dead. Gas- 
ton tiptoes back and takes a slanting look at the face of 
his enemy.) Take Mr. Marcel into the back parlor and tell 
him how it all happened. I can't. (She zcinks again and 
wJiispers to Marian.) 

]\Iarian (pretending to zveep zvhile Mary leads Jier to- 
ward R. D., foUozved closely by Gaston, zvJio keeps looking 
hack at tJie sofa and stumbles over a rug). Oh, ma-maa, 
this is simply awful ! I don't know how I will ever be able 
to bear it ! (Exit R. D., follozved by Gaston. Mary returns 
to seat beside tJie sofa.) 

Dennis (uncovering Jiis face). Quit y'r foolishness, 
Mary Ann. It's a dom shame to have such carryinor on as 
this and breakin' that poor little girl's heart. 

Mary. Indeed it is, Dinnie. Sure the Frinchman feels 
almost as bad as she does. ( Loud laugJi of Gaston off 
'stage startles tJiem both.) 

Dennis (rising on one clbozv and looking tozvard R. D.). 



AN JRISH STEW 27 

Y're right — almost! (Sounds of someone entering from 
hall outside CD.) 

Mary. Lay back and hide y'r face. wiH you? An' kape 
it hid. (Dennis fiops baek and eovers it p.) 

Donald, pale and e.veited, enters C. D., follo-u'ed bv 
Leon ORE zvlio is also agitated. 

Donald {rusJiing to his mother, who reeeives him). 
Mother! {lie faints.) 

Marian and Ga.ston re-enter from R. D. Donald is 
caught and Jield by his mother. 

Leonore. Call a doctor. 

Gaston {rusJiing tozcard C. D.). 1 weell get ze doctaire. 

Mary. Come back here. Never mind the doctor. (Mar- 
ian haz'ing rushed out R. D., returns "a'ith a glass of zvater 
and dashes some in Donald's face.) That's all he needs, 
somethin' to bring him to. (Donald sho-ws life.) It's a 
shame, me poor boy, to give you such a shock. 

Leonore (very much excited). When and how did the 
accident ha])pen ? We just heard of it as we were return- 
ing for Marian and Afr. Marcel. 

Mary. He couldn't kape his hands off that picture. It 
seems to have him hy|)n()tized. Tie was up on that chair 
and slipped and struck his ]:)oor head on the side of it. 

Donald ( rerires and blinks as Mary ajid Leonorl 
stroke Jiis forehead). Where am I? 

Mary. Right here in y'r mother's arms where y're al- 
ways welcome. (Szveetly.) Y're right here with Leonore, 
too. 

(Marian and Gaston go to piano, she sitting on stool 
with back to keyboard and looking up at Gaston.) 

Donald ( completely rez'ived, slips his arms around Mary 
and Leonore). How did it happen, mother? 

Mary {wearily^ at being required to repeat). He was 
up there on that chair straighten' out that ould chromo. 
{The form stirs on the couch.) 

Donald. I thought as much. He might have known 
the moment he took Bill Splivins out of that frame that 



28 AN IRISH STEW 

something would happen. (Tunis and looks at sofa.) Gee, 
dad, this is tough. [Lifts handkerchief to his eyes; then, 
casting a sad look torcvard the sofa.) Is he marked much, 
mother ? 

Mary. Take a look at him, why don't you ? 

Donald (turning away in grief). You look at him, Leo- 
nore. I can't. (Mary instantly catches her son and they 
whisper as Leonore goes to the sofa and timidly lifts back 
the sheet, exposing the face. SJie shudders and steps azvay, 
bows her head and mourns silently.) Has the coroner 
been notified? 

Mary. Not unless Lahey has done it. 

Gaston. I weel go for ze corronaire. 

Donald. No, you go to your barber shop and bring your 
shaving outfit. Dad must have a shave. (TJie sheet stirs 
a' little.) He must look his best when his friends see him 
for the last time. (Gaston hurries for the door.) You 
might as well order flowers while you're about it. 

Marian (hurrying after Gaston). Wait for me. I 
shall look after the flowers. I know more what he likes 
best. (Exit Marian and Gaston. C. D.) See if you can 
locate an anchor. {Calling after him.) If you can, have it 
made out of shamrocks. 

Gaston (coming back and sticking head in C. D.). Zat 
es not nice for ze pa-paa. Zat look too much like ze peek- 
ax. (Exit.) 

Donald (to his mother). I wonder if he made his will. 
And if he did, did he leave anything to us, or did he leave 
it all to that gink of a president of the brickthrowcrs' 
union. (The sheet stirs and one eye peeks out from un- 
der it.) 

Leonore (still unaware of the burlesque). I'm begin- 
ning to hate you, Donald Hogan. Your conduct is simply 
disgusting. You seem to be rejoicing at your father's death 
when you should mourn. (Turns from him. Donald 
shakes with laughter.) It's nothing to laugh at. (The sheet 
quivers. She sees it and clasps one hand to her face in 
fright as she shrinks into Donald's arms. She looks up at 



AX IRISH STEW 29 

him and he whispers to her. She slozvly comprehends, and 
to carry the joke farther she joins in the burlesque.) Here! 
(Slips engagement ring from Jier finger and hands it to 
Donald.) Take this engagement ring of yours and wreck 
some other girl's life with it. I wouldn't marry a man who 
has no more respect for the dead than you have. (Starts 
for C. D.) 

Donald. Ah, come back, Leonore ! Come back or you'll 
break my heart. (Runs and catches her at doorzvay.) 

Dennis. Don't do anything of the kind ! (Starting to 
stick out his head, but covers up quickly as he sees theui 
returning.) 

Leonore. Did I hear someone? 

Donald. That was no human voice. It sounded like 
the bray of a jackass. (Softly.) Gee, kid, you mustn't 
flare up so quick. Wait till I get kind of used to dad's 
death. I can't get it into my system that he's dead. Wait 
till I come home here after banking hours and find him 
missin' ; then maybe I'll begin to realize. 

Leonore (turning to Mary). You are the one, Mrs. 
Hogan, who will miss him most. 

Mary (pretending to sob). Yes, it'll be lonesome with- 
out poor Dinnie. 

Leonore (to Donald). Suppose anything happened to 
me. Wouldn't you miss me, just a little bit? 

Donald. If anything happened to you, kid, that would 
be my finish. (He folds her in his arms and kisses her.) 

Leonore (upon being released, to Mary). You must 
break up this home when Marian and Mr. Marcel are mar- 
ried and come and live with Donald and me. 

Mary (zvitJi a great wink). Who knows but that some- 
one more lonesome than meself might come along to sort 
o' cheer me up a bit. (The sheet stirs violently.) Misery 
loves company, you know. 

Donald Cto Leonore as he slips his arm around her 
tvaist). I'd be satisfied to see mother married again. You 
couldn't expect her to live here all alone after Marian and 
I settle down in our own homes. She wouldn't want to 



30 AX IRISH STEW 

live with either of us. I tell you, this daughter-in-law and 
son-in-law business isn't what it is cracked up to be. Come 
on, let us go and select a floral piece. This is no time any- 
how to talk about second marriages. { Starts -zi'/V/z Leo- 
NORE to C. D.) But there's one thin.^. mother, while we're 
on the subject. If you ever do marry again, get someone 
this time with monew (Donald a)id Leonore c.vit C. D.) 

Dennis {springing up and sitting on side of sofa), ^^is, 
Tim Toolin ! He's the man for you. 

Mary (paying )io attention to the slam ). 1 low d'you like 
bein' dead, Dinnie? 

Dennis. Ax me grandmother. (She looks ealnily at 
him.) Not one-half so well as you like bein' me widow. 

Mary. Arrah, Dinnie, can't you take a joke? 

Dennis. There's nothin' to joke about, stretched out 
here on the broad of me back on this hard ould sofy prc- 
tendin' I'm dead an' givin' you a fine chance to air y'r fickle 
fancies. There's many a truth said in a joke. 

Mary. Don't be foolish. Dinnie. 

Dennis {imitating). Don't be foolish, Mary Ann! 

Mary. Ain't I tellin' you 1 was only jokin'? 

Dennis. ^laybe you were, but 1 have mc doubts about it. 
(Steps to the table, pieks up mirror and again looks into 
it.) I need a shave, all right. But whate\er you do, don't 
let that divil of a frog-eater tooch a razor to me face. 
(Lays mirror doicji.) Yd be afeard he'd cut me throat. 

Mary (her sides shaking K'itJi laughter). ^ly, Dinnie, 
but y're a .-ightl I'm ashamed to look at you. Go on back 
to the sofa and cover up y'r face. 

Dennis. May the black fiend take that man Lahey and 
his idea! It's worth the tw^o hundred to put through what 
I've put through with. I'll bet two pins that Toolin won't 
come near us. 

Mary. What if he doesn't? Look at the fun we're 
havin'. (LaugJis again.) 

Dennis. We're havin'? Not zee — you. 

Mary. Go cover uj) y'r face, I'm tellin' y(ui. {Door 



AN IRISH STEW 31 

slams outside.) Hurry! Someone's comin'. (He covers 
up all but /lis head.) 

Dennis. It's the childer with the flowers, I suppose. 
Why the divil did you let thim go to all that expense just 
to amuse you? 

Mary. No fear of thim comin' back. They're gone to 
the masquerade. 

Dennis. An' me lyin' dead here on the broad of me 
back ? 

Mary. Sure, I tould them all about the joke we was 
])layin' on Toolin. They know everything. (Bell rings. 
She springs up.) There's Toolin for you. Lay back and 
kape y'r face still. (Goes to C. D.. pushes zvall button and 
steps just outside in liallzcay 7<'ith a very sad demeanor.) 
Good avenin', Mr. Toolin. 
Tim Toolin enters C. IK and folto-a's her into the room. 

Tim (as he enters). Good avenin', Mrs. Hogan. I'm 
very sorry for y'r troubles. Musha, how did it all happen, 
an' whin did it happen ? 

Mary (pretending to sob). It's almost impossible to re- 
late the truth of it. I was out there in the kitchen lookin' 
after the supper whin I heard a crash. I run in an' found 
him upon the floor there, beside that chair. He was up 
there straightenin' that picture on the w^all whin he shlipped, 
I suppose, and whin he came down his poor head must 
have struck on the side of the chair. There's a gash a futt 
long across his poor forr'ed. an' two feet deep, I believe. 
Ah, it's horrible. 

Tim. Too bad. (To himself as he turns and looks at 
sofa.) Too bad it didn't happen long ago. 

Mary. What's that you were sayin', Tim? 

Tim. I was sayin' that it's too bad that none of us have 
long to go. 

Mary. That's true for you. We'll all be goin' the same 
way before we know it. (Tim walks over to the couch 
and pulls back the sheet, zvithout bending.) 

Tim. My, but doesn't he look ugly. (The sheet at foot 
of bed stirs but Tim's back is turned.) 



32 AN IRJSK STEW 

Mary. What's that you say ? 

Tim. I said, My, but doesn't he look lovely. 

Mary. Faith I don't agree with you. He needs a shave, 
and he should 've had on a dark suit of clothes, an' he 
should 've had a physician to dress the wound. Ah, I 
think he looks terrible. (Covers face zvith hands.) 

Tim. I suppose he left you in good circumstances? 

Mary. Not a pinny. He didn't leave the price to bury 
him. (Both come dozvn stage, close to each other.) 

Tim (very cold and indifferent). You made a mistake 
whin you didn't marry me when I axed you. 

Mary (dropping her head sadly). I suppose I did, Tim. 

Tim. I tould you y'd regret it. (Looks at her pityingly 
as she sobs.) No use cryin' over spilt milk. He made 
plenty of money but he was no hand to hang on to it. I 
tell you, Mrs. Hogan, a fool an' his money is 'azy parted. 
(Dennis lifts sheet from face and glares at them while 
their backs are turned.) I'm worth a lot of money, but 
I'd 'a' been worse off than he is, there now, if I hadn't 
hung on to it. Whin is the funeral to be? 

Mary. It's hard tellin'. 

Tim. Where is he to be buried? 

Mary. That's harder yet to tell. 

Tim. I'll report y'r case to the authorities. They'll dis- 
pose of the body someway. Maybe they'll turn him over 
to the clinic. 

Mary. Ah, Mr. Toolin, you wouldn't stand here and 
see a friend of yours turned over to the students to be 
operated upon for medicinal purposes, would you? 

Tim. He never was a friend of mine. (Showing a dis- 
position to go.) Of course, if there's anythin' I can do 
that will be obligin' you, I'm at y'r service. But as for him, 
the divil a thing at all would I do! 

(Dennis rises and rests on one elbow. He expresses a 
desire to jump from the sofa and pounce upon Tim.) 

Mary (motioning to Dennis to keep quiet). I always 
thought I could depind on you whiniver I was in trouble. 
But this is the first occasion I have had to call on any- 



AN IRISH STEW 33 

body. And as you used to say, "Call on me, Mary Ann, 
if iver you need a frind," the thought occurred to me that 
if you hadn't come of y'r own free will I w^ould have sent 
one of the childer dow^n after you. 

Tim. Where are the childer? 

Mary. Gone to the masq — (sJie catches herself as Den- 
nis flops back, half afraid that she has made a mess of 
everything). 

Tim. What noise was that? 

Mary. The cat inside the kitchen there, has been watchin' 
for a mouse, all .the afternoon. 

Tim {turning and glancing hack at couch). It might have 
been a rat. 

Mary {z'ery nervous). No, I'm sure it was a mouse. 

Tim {going toward C. D.). Well, as I was sayin' to 
you, if there's anything I can do for you, don't be afraid 
to call on me. {Exit slozvly CD.) 

Dennis {throwing hack sheet and sticking out head, 
speaks in loud zvhisper). Ax him for the two hundred, 
why don't you? 

Mary. Ah, Dinnie, I haven't the heart. 

Dennis. Well, thin, if you haven't* I have. {Moves as 
if to get up.) 

Mary. Stay where you are ! {Hurries to C. D. and 
calls.) Oh, Tim! Come back and let me have a word with 
yez before yez go. (Dennis again straightens out and cov- 
ers up. Mary comes hack into room. Tim enters and 
advances toward her.) I was thinkin' that — perhaps — that 
— a — perhaps. Ah, I can't say what I want to say. 

Tim. Ah, I -know what it is without y'r sayin' it. But 
there'll be plenty of time for that after the funeral. This 
is no place to talk about such things. 

Mary. But really, Tim, poor Dinnie ought to have a 
decent burial. I couldn't think of lookin' at anybody else 
with the thought that me first husband was turned over to 
a clinic. If I had — a — about — let me see. If I had about 
two — (Dennis's face peeps from under sheet) about two 
— hundred — dollars, I might be able to kape — 



34 AN IRISH STKW 

Tim. I guess I kin guess what y're drivin' at. You 
mane to remind me of the two hundred I still owe y'r hus- 
band. Of coorse I'm not deny in' that I owe him that much 
money. An' I'm not denyin' that he lat me have it at a 
time whin I naded it very badly. I fully intinded to give 
it back to him. But he was in too big a hurry for it. Of 
coorse, I was in a hurry whin I got it, an' whin you come 
to think of it, it was very kind in Dinnie to let me have it. 
1 owe him the two hundred. (Reaches down in pocket 
and pulls out purse from which he takes roll of bills. Den- 
nis sits straigJit up and settles his eyes on the roll.) And 
it's no more than right that he should get it. (Starts to 
count off bills. Dennis gets excited.) Right wrongs 
nobody. I got it from him in a time like this, and to re- 
turn it under similar conditions would be a fitting climax. 
(He is about to hand tJie money to Mary.) But the advan- 
tage that people take of a woman in trouble whin she has 
the money to pay for it, is enough to put any man on his 
guard. The undertaker is a hould-up. So is everyone else 
that has anything to do with anyone in trouble. (Rolls 
money up again and puts it back in purse.) I think I'll 
go engage an undertaker meself — one who is a begin- 
ner in the business and won't charge you a small fortune. 
To tell the truth, I believe he will trust you for his services 
until you are ready to pay -it y'rself. (SJwi'es purse 
back in pocket and starts toward the door. Dennis has 
fallen back and cover cd his head.) I'll sind him up and let 
you make your own arrangements. (Exit CD.) 

Mary. He's gone, Dinnie — without lavin' me a cent. 
(Dennis does not move or answer.) Dinnie, I'm talkin' to 
you. (No response. She goes to him and shakes him.) 
Good heavens, the shock has kilt him! What shall I do? 
What shall I do? (Moans and ivrings hands. Bell sounds.) 
Wake up, Dinnie, I must answer the doorbell. (Hurries 
to door and presses button, then steps into hall. Dennis 
pulls back sheet from his face and his wife hurries back.) 
Thanks be to the Lord, y're alive. (Dennis just looks at 
her as she turns to meet the newcomer.) 



AN IRISH STEW 35 

Pat enters, C. D, 
Pat {to Mary). Well? I see he was here. You got the 
two hundred, I suppose? 
Mary. No, Pat. 

Dennis {rising and sitting on sofa). You should have 
been here and heard the things he said about me whin he 
thought I was out of harm's reach. And to think I had to 
lie here on the broad of me back and listen to the dom 
miser boast about owin' me money. Had to listen to him 
make love to me wife here at me own funeral. And to 
think you were the cause of all this misery, you and y'r 
idea. 

Pat. You tould me y'rself you thought it a brilliant 
idea. 

Mary. And to think I had the money, almost in me 
hands ! 

Dennis. An' to think she let it git away from her! Pd 
half a notion to spring upon him from behind and take it 
away from him, but I wanted the satisfaction of bein" 
clever enough to make him come across without any rough 
treatment. {Tlie doorbell rings.) Who the divil is there 
to come now to see me? 

Pat {as Mary ansivers call). The widow. You toult 
me to be sure an' notify 'er so's you could have a little fun 
with the ould lady. 

Dennis {springing back and covering up). I wish y'd 
have left her where she was. 

Mary {very indignant as she leads the zvay). There he 
he is ! Take a look at him ! 

Mrs. O'Flaherty enters. 
Mrs. O'Flaherty {hurrying to the sofa). Poor Dinnie ! 
They've got you where you can't spake to me at last. 
{Turns back the sheet and looks sadly doivn as she en- 
deavors to zveep.) My, how p'aceful and calm you do look. 
{Covers the face and turns to Mary.) What's the matter, 
Mrs. Hogan, you don't seem to be sheddin' many tears. 

Mary {angrily). Perhaps I have no very good reason 
to shed tears. 



36 AN IRISH STEW 

Mrs. O'F. Perhaps not. The loss of a husband is hardly 
enough for some women to shed tears over. (Business of 
Dennis and Pat urging the two zvomen upon each other 
in dumb shcnv. They grin and make faces and have their 
fitn behind the women's hacks.) 

Mary. Judgin' from the way you behaved after the 
death of yours. 

Mrs. O'F, I'm still a widow. 

Mary. It's no fault of yours, if you are. 

Mrs. O'F. Mrs. Hogan, you don't mane a word y're 
sayin'. Y're only jealous of me 'cause y'r husband used 
to go out of his way to spake to me once in awhile since 
me own husband died. 

Mary. And I suppose you didn't encourage it? 

Mrs. O'F. .Mrs. Hogan! I came here thinkin' you was 
in trouble and to offer me services if you was. If }'re 
not in trouble thin I'll take one long last look at poor Dinnie 
and bid you good avenin'. (Dennis flops hack and as Mrs. 
O'Flaherty turns to look in the direction of couch, all is 
peaceful. Pat^s head is hozved.) 

Mary. He's there for you to look at. Help y'rself. 
(Doorbell rings and Mary goes and pushes hiitton.) 

Mrs. O'F. (stepping up and pidUng sheet hack). Good- 
bye, Dinnie. I'll see you nixt whin they're takin' you away 

from here. -. t , r- t^ 

Jasper Lee enters, C. u. 

Jasper (follozving Mary and handing card to her as he 
enters). I met Mr. Toolin a few moments ago as he was 
comin' from yoh-all, an' he tol' me to come oveh heah and 
make arrangements foh de disposal of yoh husband's re- 
mains. I'm de new undertaker jes' move heah from Ten- 
nessee. I's Jasper Lee from Tennessee, I is. 

Mrs. O'F. Glory be to the Lord, is it a coon undertaker 
she has ordered? Poor Dinnie! It's little they care about 
you whin y're gone. Good-bye. (Exit hurriedly, C. D., 
exchanging hostile glances with Mary.) 

Mary (looking after her). Good riddance to bad rub- 
bage. (To Jasper.) Who did you say sint you? 



AN IRISH STEW 37 

Jasper. Mr. Timothy Toolin. He said to take charge 
of the funeral and y'd pay me later. Dat's all right, madam. 
You kin pay me whenever you feel like it. Don't care very 
much whether yoh pay me at all, jes' so's I gits a start. I's 
been heah fouh months and nobody gives me nothin' to do. 
I jes' figures dat if I gits a staht, business will pick up. 

Mary. It's mighty kind of Tim Toolin, I must say. 

Dennis {Jiaving sat up and seen Jasper). Holy Moses! 
I'm to be buried by a nayger ! 

Jasper (treinbling and looking straigJit ahead). What 
am dat? 

Pat. The ghost of the dead man. 

Jasper. Good-day, ev'ybody! I ain't gwin' to have 
nothin' to do with dead people what lets dere ghosts trail 
around wid dem. Um-um. I's gwin' ! {Exit C. D. zvith- 
out ever looking in the direction of the sofa. Pat and 
Mary look at one another. Dennis flings the sheet off, 
sits up on sofa.) 

Dennis. Well, the jig is up. No chance of gettin' the 
two hundred. You might as well be goin' to the matin' and 
tell thim somethin' for me — that I was sick or somethin' and 
couldn't come. (Noise outside.) 

Mary. Well, Dinnie, I tried me best. 

Pat. What's that noise outside like someone backin' up a 
truck ? 

Dennis. It's another of y'r ideas. 

Mary. Here, Dinnie, take this money. If the phony- 
graft comes I'll have thim take it back. 

Dennis. I'll do nothin' of the kind. {Bell rings. Mary 
goes and presses button. Voice heard from outside hall- 
zvay. ) 

Voice. I have a phonograph for Hogan. Where do you 
want to put it? 

Mary. Take it home with you. 

Dennis {going to C. D.). Never mind what she says. 
Set it there in the hall. Come here and git y'r money. 
{Pushes Mary into the hall.) Pay the man, why don't 
you? 



38 AN IRISH STEW 

Mary (goes into Jiall as Dennis returns to sofa). Din- 
nie, I hate to do this. 

Pat. I'm sorry, Dinnie, y're not comin' with me. There's 
to be the installation of officers tonight, a fine banquet, and 
heaven knows what, and you would be enjoyin' y'rself — 

Dennis {interrupting). I'd be ashamed to put me face 
in the door if I hadn't the price of me dues in me pocket. 
iPieks up mirror and looks at self.) Just think — the widow 
thought I looked handsome. (Chuekles.) 

Pat. There's an ould sayin', Love is blind, you know. 

Dennis. Mary Ann and the widow niver did git along. 
Mary Ann has no use for her. 

Pat. Just about as much use as you have for Toolin. 

Dennis. Don't be foolish, Lahey. 

Mary enters from hall through C. D. 

Mary. I feel awfully guilty, Dinnie. There it is out 
there in the hall, and there it'll stay till the childer come 
home an' find a place to put it. 

Dennis. You don't feel one-half as guilty as I do, axin' 
you for money whin I knew you wanted it f'r somethin' 
else. 

Pat [picking up his hat). An' naither of yez feel as 
guilty as I do — thinkin' up an idea and have it pan out like 
this one did, after comin' so close to gittin' what the whole 
of us was after. (Bell rings.) 

Mary. Who the divil is this? Into bed with ye, Dinnie. 
Who knows but it may be Toolin' returnin'. (Dennis 
hurries back to sofa. Pat co7'ers him up. then follozvs 
Mary to C. D., and looks out down the Jialhvay. He sees 
who it is and hurries back to Dennis. They ivhisper and 
the form straightens on sofa as Pat bows head in sad 
spirits.) 

Tim enters C. D. and follows ^Iary into room. 

Tim. It's aisy seein' you don't intind to mourn the loss 
of y'r husband very long. An' I don't blame you for it. 
{Sees Pat.) Good-avenin' again. Lahey. 



AN IRISH STEW 39 

(Pat merely nods and drops his head in the palms of 
his hands.) 

Mary. Why do you say that, Tim? 

Tim. You have a new phonograph, I see. 

Mary. That was a present to the childer from their 
father before he died. 

Tim. Dinnie was good-hearted, all right. After all, it's 
no bad failin' to have the reputation of bein' good-hearted. 
Did the undertaker come? 

Mary. Did he come, Tim? Did you send that nayger 
here to bury poor Dinnie? 

Tim. I did that. What difference does it make who's 
the undertaker? Whin y're dead y're dead, and the under- 
taker won't bring ye back to life again. 

Mary. But he's too scared to be an undertaker. He's 
a-scared of his shadow. Someone made a slight noise 
whin he was here talkin' to me, and Pat, there, for the fun 
of it, tould him it was Dinnie's ghost, and he shot out of 
here as if the divil was after him. 

Tim {reaching dozvn in pocket and pulling out pocket- 
book containing roll of bills). Well, I've changed me mind 
about the undertaker. Here's the two hundred I owe Din- 
nie. Take it and hire y'r own undertaker. (The form on 
the conch stirs. Pat almost faints as Tim delivers bills to 
Mary.) I guess y'll find there's enough there to cover all 
expenses. If there isn't — don't call on me. Call on some- 
one else who has more money than I have to throw at the 
birds. Good-avenin' and good luck to you, Mrs. Hogan. 
After y'r troubles are over and you happen to be down by 
me office, drop in an' we'll talk ould times over. Good- 
avenin'. {Exit CD.) 

Mary {calling after him). Good-avenin', Tim. 

Dennis {springs up and rushes out L. D. to remove 
paint. From off stage). Good-avenin', ould tight-wad. 

Pat {rushing to Mary). Did you get it all? 

Mary {counting bills). Faith I did — every cent of it. 

Dennis {coming from L. D. and zviping his forehead 
zvith a towel). Mary Ann, y're a darlin'. 



40 AN IRISH STEW 

As they embrace, Toolin reappears in C. D. 

Tim. I forgot, ]\Jrs. Nooan, 1(» lakf a receipt for that 
two — what tlic — ? [i.lariiKj nt lliciii.) I ilionght that you 
was (lead ! 

I)i:nnis. Well, you blatherskite, you got another thought 
coniin'. 

Tim (gesticulating angrily). You tricked me ! Give me 
back me two hundred dollars or I'll have the law on you ! 

Dennis. Take y'r face out of that doorway before I 
spoil me fist with it. 

Tim (starting to go). Well, I suppose y're satisfied, now 
that you got the money that belonged to you ! 

Dennis. Yes, an' I suppose y're satisfied to think I had 
to die to get it. 

Tim. Ah, you make me sick! (Exit C. D.) 

Dennis. Follow him out, Mary Ann, and lock the door 
behind him or he's liable to stale the phonygraft. (Mary 
exits C. D. Dennis turns to Pat and grabs his hand.) 
\Mioever says that Pat Lahey ain't the possessor of big 
ideas, I'll tell him he's a liar ! 

Pat. I thank you for thim words. But now, Dinnie, do 
me one favor in return for what I did for you. 

Dennis. You have only to ax it. 

Pat. Who, besides meself, voted for you? 

Dennis (dratving back as if to slap Pat). Go on out of 
that, before I break me fist on y'r gob. 

Mary enters C. D. 

Mary. Thank heaven that's over with. 

Dennis. Come, Mary Ann. Give me a squeeze. 

Mary. Don't be foolish, Dinnie. 

Pat (to Dennis).- Come along, now, and go with me 
to the meetin' I 

Dennis. No, Pat. Give him a tin-spot, Mary Ann, and 
let him pay me dues for me. (Mary gives Pat a bill from 
her roll.) Y'll do that much for me, won't you, Pat? 

Pat. Faith I will. (Goes to C. D. and stands looking 



AN IRISH STEW 41 

back.) I'll do anything in the world for you an' Mary Ann, 
Dinnie. 

Dennis. That's kind of you, Pat. I'd Hke to go for your 
sake and that fellow up there (looks up at picture), but 
the childer have gone to the masquerade and it wouldn't be 
right to lave Mary Ann home here alone. I think if I'm 
wise, I'd better stay where I am. (Slips his arm around 
Mary's ivaist.) Don't you think so, Mary Ann? 

Mary. Faith I do, Dinnie. {They embrace.) 

Curtain. 



The Spell of the Ima^e 

By LINDSEY BARBEE 

Price, 35 Cents 

A comedy-drama in prologue and 3 acts; 10 males, 10 femalec. 
Time. 21/^ liours. Scenes: 2 interiors. Characters in the Pro- 
logue: The host. His daughter. Her sweetheart. A rival. A 
serving maid. A gypsy. Dancers. Characters in the Play: Dun- 
bar, a young millionaire. Harlan, his friend. Ross, managing edi- 
tor of the Clarion. Mathews, business manager of the Clarion. 
Carter, a political candidate. Ted, an office boy. Terrence, an 
Irish gentleman. Phj^Uis, of modern tendencies. Carolyn, her 
closest friend. Fredericka, a reporter. Kitty. Phyllis' sister, 
secretly romantic. Belinda, a maid, also romantic. Two aunts, of 
opposing natures. 

SYNOPSIS 

Prologue. — The toast — "England and America." Phyllis pleads 
her cause with Rupert — and the image mocks. The gypsy weaves 
an evil spell and reads what "is written in the stars." Phyllis 
offers tribute — and the pearls are hidden. "Our tryst is over." 
Act I. — Kitty flaunts tradition and argues a business career 
before an unsympathetic audience. Carter proves an obstacle in 
the political career of MacDonald and John. Phyllis airs her 
views upon economic independence and tells MacDonald why she 
can't marry him. Kitty falls asleep — and is awakened by Ad- 
venture. "Faith and it's not a monkey-wrench to me — it's a 
key to the future." The telephone rings — and Phyllis goes to 
work on the Clarion. 

Act II. — Fredericka lands a scoop — and prophesies failure for 
the Clarion. Loss of advertising and of popular favor does not 
daunt MacDonald. "I'm going to be a detectuff." Fredericka 
makes a proposition to Carter. Ted and Kitty, together, play 
"detectuff." "Your stocks are quite worthless. Mac." Adven- 
ture comes again to Kitty — and learns of his enemy. Terrence 
is about to tell his story — when the climax comes! 

Act- III. — Terrence is generou.s — and Carter accepts the terms, 
"Don't its eyes seem to follow me — doesn't it seem alive?" Aunt 
Letitia and Aunt Alice have a lively tilt, with Phyllis as media- 
tor. Belinda slaps the image — and the pearls are found! Kitty 
follows Adventure "even to the end of the day." "Here's half 
the cost of a wedding ring!' 



Little Miss Enemy 

By HARRY L. NEWTON 

Price, 25 Cents 

A mobilization of mirth and melody; 1 male, 1 female. Time^ 
15 minutes. A Palm Beach flirtation with military tactics. War 
declared; the enemy entrenched; strategy; the siege; the battle 
won only to find Little Miss Enemy his commanding officer. A 
-snappy bit of refined comedy. 



To S. DENISON & COMPANY, Publishers 

623 S. Wabash Ave., CHICAGO 



The Lady of the Library 

By EDITH F. A. U. PAINTON 

Price, 35 Cents 

A delightful comedy-drama of village life in 3 acts; 5 males, 
10 females. Time, 2 hours. Scene: Reading room of a j(>i,blio 
library; easily set. A most refined and lovable librarian of 60 
years, surprisingly youthful in appearance and manner, plays the 
leading role. Through her selection of literature the town hi».s 
been brought up to a high standard. Although sincerely in love 
with a certain judge, she has allowed the whims of others to 
keep them apart for many years; however, they are finally vmited. 
Pearl, the pretty ingenue, a strong part. Bits of good comedy 
furnished by two typical old maids, a movie actress, newlvweds 
and the "proprietor of the dust rag." A story that inspires the 
most pleasant thoughts and is bound to find its way to the heart 
of every audience. 

SYNOPSIS 

Act I. — ^Morning- at the Library. A movie actress in ordinary 
role. "Miss Avis won't be an old maid wlien slie's a liundred." 
Burr warns Pearl against the fate of a spinster. Tlie missing 
book. Mrs. Nelson recalls old times. The new preacher feels 
called to set to rights a few things. "Would you close the doors 
of knowledge to yovu' four-. footed brothers?" Mrs. Edgeworth 
exerts her authority. A startling insinuation. Avis unlocks the 
cliambers of the past. "God be merciful to all who. are born 
women!" 

Act IT. — Mrs, Edgeworth on the war-path. Sam assumes the 
l)lame. "I'm the guy that put the sin in Cincinnati." The Judge's 
return takes everybody by surprise. The preacher interviews 
Peail and Susanne appeals for religious instruction. Mrs. Edge- 
worth's accusation is met by opposition. "If this was the Judg- 
ment Day and you wei-e the Angel of Death itself, I could give 
no other answer!" "I would stake my very life on her honesty." 

Act III. — Sam gets poetic througli literary association. The 
preacher liears the story of Pearl's origin. Avis resigns her 
position. The Judge liears of the i)earl ling and finds the long- 
souglit cliild. Mrs. Edgeworth's change of lieart. "Of course 
the dear child was not at all to blame." The .ludge reveals the 
myster\' of the lost volume and Burr contributes liis share to 
the revelation. Pearl speaks lier mind. "I have nothing what- 
ever to say to Burr's mother." Mrs. Edgeworth rejoices. "I 
have always longed for a daughter." Susanne frightens the min- 
ister. "Go away, lady!" Avis receives and answers her letter at 
last. The Judge "considers theii* ages" and gets his "turn" at 
last. "Is it too late to find tlie minister?" 



At Harmony Junction 

By FREDERICK G. JOHNSON 

Price, 25 Cents 

Comedy character sketch for a singing quartette: 4 males. 
Time, 20 minutes. The rube station agent, the colored porter, 
the tramp and the stranger supply mirth and melody wliile wait- 
ing for the train "due th' day before yistiddy." 

T. S. DENISON & COMPANY, Publishers 

623 b. Wabash Ave., LxiICAGO 



Safety First 



By SHELDON PARMER 

Price, 35 Cents 

Farce-comedy, in 3 acts; 5 males, 5 females. Time, 2^4 Hours. 
Scenes: A parlor and a garden, easily arranged. A sprightly 
farce full of action and with a unique plot teeming with unex- 
pected turns and twists that will make the audience wonder "what 
on earth is coming next." Behind the fun and movement lurks 
a great moral: Always tell the truth to your wife. The cast 
includes three young men, a funny policeman, a terrible Turk, 
two young ladies, a society matron, a Turkish maiden and Mary 
O'Finnigan, the Irish cook. The antics of the terror-stricken 
husband, the policeman, the dude and the Irish cook start the 
audience smiling at 8:15 and send them home with aching sides 
from the tornado of fun at 10:40. Suitable for performance any- 
where, but recommended for lodges, clubs and schools. Not a 
coarse or suggestive line in the play. 

SYNOPSIS 

Act I. — Jack's lil suburban home. A misplaced husband. "He 
kissed me good-bye at eighteen minutes after seven last night, 
and I haven't laid eyes on him since." The Irish maid is full 
of sympathy but she imagines a crime has been committed. 
Elmer, the college boy, drops in. And the terrible Turk drops 
out. "Sure the boss has eloped wid a Turkey!" Jerry and Jack 
come home after a horrible night. Explanations. "We joined the 
Shriners, I'm the Exalted Imported Woggle and Jack is the Ba- 
zook!" A detective on the trail. Warrants for John Doe, Richard 
Roe and Mary Moe. "We're on our waj'' to Florida!" 

Act II. — A month later. Jack and Jerry reported drowned at 
sea. The Terrible Turk looking for Zuleika. The return of the 
prodigals. Ghosts! Some tall explanations are in order. "I never 
was drowned in all my life, was I, Jerry?" "We were lashed to 
a mast and we floated and floated and floated!" A couple of 
heroes. The Terrible Turk hunting for Jack and Jerry. "A Turk 
never injures an insane man." Jack feigns insanity. "We are 
leaving this roof forever!" The end of a perfect day. 

Act III. — Mrs. Bridger's garden. Elmer and Zuleika start on 
their honeymoon. Mabel forgives Jack, but her mamma does not. 
They decide to elope. Jerry's scheme works. The two McNutts. 
"Me middle name is George Washington, and I cannot tell a 
lie." The detective falls in the well. "It's his ghost!" Jack and 
Jerry preparing for the elopement. Mary Ann appears at the 
top of the ladder. A slight mistake. "It's a burglar, mum, I've 
got him!" The Terrible Turk finds his Zuleika. Happiness at last. 

Foiled, By Heck! 

By FREDERICK G. JOHNSON 

Price, 25 Cents 

A truly rural drama, in 1 scene and several dastardly acts; 
3 males, 3 females. Time, 35 minutes. Scene: The mortgaged 
home of the homespun drama, between sunup- and sundown. 
Characters: Reuben, a nearly self-made man. His wife, who 
did the rest. Their perfectly lovely daughter. Clarence, a rustic 
hero, by ginger! Olivia, the plaything of fate, poor girl. Syl- 
vester, with a viper's heart. Curses! Curses! Already he has 
the papers. A screaming travesty on the old-time "b'gosh" drama. 

T. S. DENISON & COMPANY, Publishers 

623 S. Wabash Ave., CHICAGO 



DENISON'S ACTING PLAYS 

Partial List of Successful and Popular Plays. Large Catalogue Free 



FARCES, COMEDIETAS, Etc. 
Price 25 Cents Each 



All on a Summer's Day, 40 min. 
Aunt Harriet's Night Out, 35 



1 2 



Aunt Matilda's Birthday Party, 

35 min 11 

Billy's Chorus Girl, 30 min... 2 3 
l>oirawed Luncheon, 20 min.. 5 
Borrowing Trouble, 20 min.... 3 5 
Case Against Casey, 40 min... 23 

Class Ship, 35 min 3 S 

Divided Attentions, 35 min... 1 4 
Fun in Photo Gallery, 30 min.. 6 10 
Getting Rid of Father,<'20 min. 3 1 
Goose Creek Line, 1 hr 3 10 



Great Pumpkii^ Case, 35 min..i: 
Hans \'on Smash, 30 min.... - 

Honest Peggy, 25 min 

]rish Linen Peddler, 40 min... ; 
Just Like a Woman, 35 min... . 

Last Rehearsal, 25 min : 

;Men Not Wanted, 30 min.... 
IMother Goose's Goslings, 30 m. 
Mrs. Jenkins' Brilliant Idea, 35m. 
Mrs. Stubbins' Book Agent, 30 m. 3 
Not a Man in the House, 40 m. 

Paper Wedding, 30 min 1 

Pat's Matrimonial '*'enture, 25 

min 1 

Patsy O'Wang, 35 min 4 

Rummage Sale, 50 min 4 

Sewing for the Heathen, 40 

min 

Shadows, 35 min 3 

Sing a Song of Seniors, 30 min. 
Taking Father's Place, 30 min. 5 
Teacher Kin I Go Home, 35 

min 7 

Too Much of a Good Thing, 45 

min 3 

Two Ghosts in White, 20 min . . 

Two of a Kind, 40 min 2 

Uncle Dick's Mistake. 20 min.. 3 
Wanted: a Correspondent, 45 m. 4 
Watch, a Wallet, and a Jack of 

Spades, 40 min 3 

Whole Truth, 40 min 5 

Who's the Boss? 30 min _. . 3 

Wide F.nough for Two, 45 min. 5 
Wrong Baby, 25 min 

FARCES, COIVIEDIETAS, Etc 
Price 15 Cents Each 

April Fools, 30 min 3 

Assessor, The, 15 min 3 

]>al)y SIiow at Pineville, 20 min. 
Before the Play Begins, 15 

min 

Billy's Mishaps, 20 min 

Country Tnstice. 1 5 min ...... 

Cow that Kicked Chicago, 25 m. 

Family Strike, 20 min.. 

First-Class TTotel, 20 min.... 
For Love and Honor, 20 min.. 
Fudge and a Burglar, IS min.. 



7 9 



Great Medical Dispensary, 30 m. 6 

Initiating a Granger, 25 min.. 8 

Kansas Immigrants, 20 min... 5 1 

Lottie Sees It Through, 35 min. 3 4 

Pair of Lunatics, 20 min 1 1 

Pat, the Apothecary, 35 min.. 6 2 

Please Pass the Cream, 20 min. 1 1 

Second Childhood, 15 min.... 2 2 

Smith's LTnlucky Day, 20 min.. 1 1 

That Rascal Pat, 30 mm 3 2 

Two Aunts and a Photo, .20 m. 4 

Two Gentlemen in a Fix. 15 m. 2 

Wanted: A Hero, 20 min 1 1 

VAUDEVILLE SKETCHES 
Price 25 Cents Each 

Amateur, 15 min 1 1 

At Harmony Junction, 20 min. 4 

Breakfast Food for Two, 20 m. 1 1 

Cold Finish, 15 min.. 2 1 

Coming Champion, 20 min.... 2 

Fresh Timothy Hay, 20 min.. 2 1 

Her Hero, 20 min 1 1 

Hey, Rul)e! 15 min 1 

It Might Happen, 20 min 1 1 

Little Miss Enemy, 15 min.... 1 1 

Little Red School House, 20 m. 4 

Marriage and After, 10 min.. 1 
One Sweetheart for Two, 20 m. 2 

Oyster Stew, 10 min 2 

Pete Yonsen's Curl's Moder, 10m. 1 

Quick Lunch Cabaret, 20 min.. 4 

Si and I, 15 min 1 

Special Sale, 15 min 2 

Street Faker, 15 min 3 

Such Ignorance, 15 min 2 

Sunny Son of Italy, 15 min.. 1 

Time Table, 20 min 1 1 

Tramp ancl the Actress, 20 min. 1 1 

Troubles of Rozinski, 15 min.. 1 

Two Jay Detectives, 1 5 min . . 3 

Umbrella Mender, 15 min.... 2 

Vait a Minute 2 

BLACK-FACE PLAYS 
Price 25 Cents Each 

Axin' Her Father, 25 min 2 3 

Booster Club of Blackville, 25 

min 10 

Colored Honeymoon, 25 min... 2 2 

Coon Creek Courtship, 15 m... 1 1 
Coontown Thirteen Club. 25 m. 14 
Darktown Fire Brigade, 25m.. 10 

Good Mornin' Judffe, 35 min.. 9 2 

Hungry, 1 5 min 2 

Love and Lather, 35 min 3 2 

Memphis Mose, 25 min. ...... . 5 1 

Oh, Doctor! 30 min 6 2 

Troubled by Ghosts, 10 min... 4 
What Happened to Hannah, IS 

min 1 1 

A great number of 

Standard and Amateur Plays 

not found here are listed in 

Denison's Catalogue 



T.S.DENISON&COMPANY,Publishers,623S.WabashAve..ChiC8go 



1-921 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



POPULAR ENTERTAINI 

Price, Illustrated Paper Covers 




THE rAVORTTE 
BCXKOFDEILLS 




IN this Series 
are found 
books touching 
every feature 
in the enter- 
tainment field. 
Finely made, 
good paper, 
clear print and 
each book has 
an attrac t i v e 
individual cov- 
er design. 



A Partial List 

DIALOGUES 

All Sorts of Dialogues. 

Sei^ted, fine for older pupils. 
Catchy Comic Dialogues. 

Very clever; for young people. 
Children's Comic Dialogues. 

From six to eleven years of age. 
Country School Dialogues. 

Brand new, original. 
Dialogues for District Schools. 

For country schools. 
Dialogues from Dickens. 

Thirteen selections. 
Friday Afternoon Dialogues. 

Over 60,000 copies sold. 
From Tots to Teens. 

Dialogues and recitations. 
Humorous Homespun Dialogues^ 

For older ones. 
Little People's Plays. 

From 7 to 13 years of age. 
Lively Dialogues. 

For all ages; mostly humorous. 
Merry Little Dialogues. 

Thirty-eight original selections. 
When the Lessons are Over. 

Dialogues, drills, plays. 
Wide Awake Dialogues. 

Original successful. 

SPEAKERS, MONOLOGUES 

Choice Pieces for Little People. 

A child's speaker. 
The Comic Entertainer. 

Recitations, monologues, dialogues. 
Dialect Readings. 

Irish, Dutch, Negro, Scptch, etc. 
The Favorite Speaker. 

Choice prose and poetry. 
The Friday Afternoon Speaker. 

For pupils of all ages. 
Humorous Monologues. 

Particularly for ladies. 
Monologues for Young Folks. 

Clever, humorous, original. 



Monoic 017 400 402 A 

Drai».»»wv» nm-i-iiuinaitrasj~ 

Scrap- Book Recitations. 

Choice collections, pathetic, hu- 
morous, descriptive, prose, 
poetry. 15 Nos., per No. 36c 

DRILLS 

The Best Drill Book. 

Very popular drills and marches. 
The Favorite Book of Drills. 

Drills that sparkle with originality. 
Little Plays With Drills. 

For children from 6 to 11 years. 
The Surprise Drill Book. 

Fresh, novel, drills and marches. 

SPECIALTIES 

The Boys' Entertainer. 

Monologues, dialogues, drills. 
Children's Party Book. 

Invitations, decorations, games. 
The Christmas Entertainer. 

Novel and diversified. 
The Days We Celebrate. 

Entertainments for all the holidays. 
Good Things for Christmas. 

Recitations, dialogues, drills. 
Good Things for Sunday Schools. 

Dialogues, exercises, recitations. 
Good Things for Thanksgiving. 

A gem of a book. 
Good Things for Washington 

and Lincoln Birthdays. 
Little Folks' Budget. 

Easy pieces to speak, songs. 
One Hundred EntertainVnents. 

New parlor diversions, socials. 
Patriotic Celebrations. 

Great variety of material. 
Pictured Readings and Tableaux. 

Entirely original features. 
Pranks and Pastimes. 

Parlor games for children. 
Shadow Pictures, Pantomlmt«, 

Charades, and how to prepare. 
Tableaux and Scenic Readings. 

New and novel; for all ages. 
Twinkling Fingers and Sway- 
ing Figures. For little tots. 
Yuletlde Entertainments. 

A choice Christmas collection. 

MINSTRELS, JOKES 

The Black-Face Joker. 

Minstrels' and end men's gags. 
A Bundle of Burnt Cork Comedy. 

Monologues, stump speeches, etc. 
Laughland,via the Ha-Ha Route. 

A merry trip for fun tourists. 
Negro Minstrels. 

All about the business. 
The New Jolly Jester. 

Funny stories, jokes, gags, etc. 

Larse Illustrated Catalogue Free 



T.S.DENISON & COMPANY,Publishers,623 S.Wabash Ave.. Chicago 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 




017 400 402 P 



